The shameless flirtation - when it happens - is part of the appeal of this arrangement. Yussa does like to see Caleb bold and a little careless. It makes him feel like he is still capable of the same, outside of his academic pursuits.
Yussa takes a deeper breath as Caleb's hand slides lower, clever fingers teasing further between his thighs. He will, most assuredly, find that Yussa is clearly aroused: wet and hot not only from Caleb's earlier efforts, but from his own indulgence in sucking cock for the first time in ages. It doesn't hurt that giving Caleb head had been a particularly satisfying experience.
A smirk plays at the corners of his mouth and the archmage shifts, ensuring that his thighs are comfortably spread with his knees fully settled on either side of Caleb's hips. An implicit invitation.
Yussa's smirk is as compelling as what Caleb finds between his thighs. Exploring him is easy with his legs spread, the way he laying on him giving Caleb the perfect angle to crook his fingers and slide them down along his slit, smooth and easy with how wet he is. His deep, slightly shaky inhale is audible. Yussa had clearly enjoyed himself nearly as much as Caleb did. Though it is too soon for Caleb to find arousal again physically, he has a deep appreciation for that knowledge.
His movements are unhurried still, but there is also no time wasted as Caleb wets his fingers and rubs the first two deftly against elf's clit in a firm rocking motion. His slick fingers slip and slide over the hot, swollen bud as he strokes it up and down, familiar with what Yussa likes. His lips press to the older wizard's temple in a brief kiss and linger there as he touches him. He can just barely hear the soft sound of wet skin on skin over his own breathing.
The ease of his expression is compromised as newly slick fingers rub against him knowingly. Dark lashes flutter and Yussa's breathing changes as Caleb remains intent in his attention. He keeps his forearm braced, but that still leaves his head very near Caleb, perfect for the man to kiss his temple.
He gives in to the urge to move his hips, chasing and encouraging the steady, unhurried stroking and apparently unconcerned about leaving a wet mess on Caleb's stomach. There is part of him that briefly debates climbing his lover's body to straddle head, but there is something alluring about being stroked off like this.
Yussa moves between the rub of Caleb's fingers and simply grinding against the young man's torso.
After leaving another kiss in the same place, Caleb eases back just enough to take in all of Yussa, from his expression to the roll of his hips. The way he moves, confidently seeking his pleasure, is beautiful to watch. When he isn't grinding against his stomach, smearing slick across his skin, Caleb's fingers are there to meet him. He applies rough, firm pressure when he rubs in tight circles, then eases off to a barely-there brush of fingertips that strokes all the way back up through his folds before returning.
He may not be hard, but he certainly is turned on. With Yussa getting off against him, his clit hot and stiff under his fingers, how could he avoid it?
Still holding onto the other man's hand, he gives it another gentle squeeze. It does hinder them both a bit--there are things Caleb could use another hand for--but he's loath to give it up. The way their fingers are laced lends a tenderness and intimacy to everything else.
At the very least, when Yussa's hips shift against him, he can spare a moment to cast. A familiar arcane word passes through his lips in a low murmur, and his hand lifts from between Yussa's legs for long enough to flick his fingers in a simple somatic. What good is being a wizard if you can't use magic to problem solve in the bedroom?
When Caleb's flesh and blood fingers return to his lover's clit, his arcane ones tease up through his folds, just barely pressing into his entrance with two. The utility of Mage Hand is, as ever, wide-ranging.
Yussa knows he can get off just like this, but he can feel the shift of Caleb's hand and he is very familiar with the whispered word. Even anticipating it, he still groans quietly when he feels the cool touch of the arcane fingers stroking against him, then pressing into him. They remain shallow, enough so that Yussa makes a small effort to rock back onto them to feel them slide deeper.
Someday, he will tell Caleb that, thus far, he's been the most willing to use magic in bed out of any lover Yussa's had. And Yussa thoroughly enjoys his bold approach to problem solving.
His fingers tighten where they are laced with Caleb's and his lips brush the younger man's ear.
"Clever," he murmurs. "Don't stop."
With ethereal fingers pushing into him, Yussa pursues his pleasure between the stroke of Caleb's fingers and those of his Mage Hand.
It's amazing what one word from Yussa can do for his self-esteem. Spoken softly against his ear, it shivers down his spine and settles warm in his belly. All he'd done is cast a rudimentary spell for what is to him an obvious solution, but when Yussa praises him for it, it feels like he's made the arcane discovery of the century.
Obligingly, the cool spectral fingers of his mage hand press deeper into Yussa's body, curling and then withdrawing and pressing in again to set a slow but firm pace. Caleb directs it with a thought, and continues to put his own fingers to use elsewhere. He has no intention of stopping.
His head turns to seek out Yussa's lips for a more direct kiss, but he moves according to the other man's rhythm. He's gotten very good at that. It helps that he loves every bit of it, stroking and caressing where he's most sensitive, feeling the way it effects him, chasing Yussa's pleasure along with him.
Yussa lifts his head to kiss Caleb full on the mouth. He muffles a moan into it as the spectral fingers fuck him just as he needs. His free hand pushes into Caleb's hair, clinging as that delicious feeling builds in him. He doesn't resist it, riding it until his orgasm breaks.
Another soft moan escapes him as he breaks from the kiss, head bowed as his entire body shivers. His cunt gets tight around the Mage Hand's fingers and breathes a heavier sigh as Caleb strokes him through it.
His pleasure is very different from Yussa's at the moment, but Caleb takes plenty of it as he brings his elven lover to an orgasm that shivers through him head to toe. Gods, he loves making Yussa come.
While he continues rubbing over him gently to work him through it, Caleb's fingers leave Yussa's clit as soon as it seems like that last peak has passed. Mage Hand's duration ends soon after, leaving the man empty. But Caleb doesn't give him long to focus on that.
"Good," he echoes, pleased, and kisses him again, full and soft. His hand winds up against the dip of the smaller man's spine just above his ass, which is good enough to hold him close.
The pleasant fullness leaves him, but Yussa finds himself very content to feel Caleb's hand resting on his back. He meets the kiss, eyes closed as they linger with the sort of tenderness he's grown very fond of.
When they part, he rests his head on Caleb's shoulder. It's very easy to relax against the young man like this. Sharing a bed again has grown on Yussa, and it's intermittent enough that it always feels a bit novel.
Eventually, Yussa shifts and slides off to one side. He stays tucked against Caleb, one leg draped over the other man's thigh. His head stays on the comfortable spot on Caleb's shoulder.
Caleb barely has to move when Yussa makes himself comfortable against his side. His arm slides a little higher, draped around the back of his shoulders instead, and he kisses the top of his head. He loves holding Yussa in any way, but like this might be a favorite.
After the first time saw Yussa's bedroom in Tidepeak and slept beside him there, something changed. There were a lot more overnights after that, most of them spent in that bed. Yussa wasn't much of a cuddler to start, but the record shows that he does like to have Caleb close, and he's gradually sought out more of it over time. Yussa permitted him into this very private part of his life that day, and the trust and intimacy and personal involvement in their relationship has evolved even further since. But Caleb hopes that Yussa can still experience here some of what he'd felt at being welcomed into his lover's personal space for the first time.
Tonight, Caleb's heart is full. He feels so lucky to be wanted enough by this man that he crossed the continent just to see him.
"Thank you," he murmurs against the short, pale waves of his hair. "For visiting. That is another thing I would never have asked for, assuming you would be uninterested. In both cases, I am glad to be wrong."
Sharing his most private spaces with Caleb had been a big step - albeit one that was initially taken while he wasn't thinking clearly. Yussa does not regret his decision, he's found comfort and pleasure in sharing his bed with Caleb Widogast. His invitation at that point had been implicit, but made during a subsequent stay.
Yussa doesn't question why Caleb has never invited him to Rexxentrum; he has long since learned that the younger man is very hesitant to ask anything for himself. At first he'd been mildly concerned about imposing, but seeing Caleb's pleasure in his arrival and his presence quickly made that fade.
He brushes his fingers affectionately over Caleb's chest.
"I know," he admits. "I could not wholly discern your hesitation in extending an invitation. But it soon became clear to me that you would not, even if you wanted to. Ask for the things you want, Caleb Widogast. You may never get them otherwise."
The archmage pushes himself up just enough to meet Caleb's gaze.
"And you are worthy of time and attention. Including mine."
Caleb's attention is all Yussa's. He is intrigued by even the smallest of his movements; the way his fingers rub across his chest, how his shoulders shift and his head tilts when he pushes up to look back at him. The look in the older wizard's eyes then makes Caleb feel...not chastised, exactly, but certainly like he's missed something crucial, and Yussa is belaboring the point to have to tell him what it is.
That he is worthy. That he can ask for things. What a novel concept.
"I--" He struggles, at first, to find the words he needs. How to communicate that he rarely feels worthy of anything, let alone what his life has become? That asking for more than what he has seems like too much? That sometimes the guilt prevents him from from pursuing the things he really wants? He thinks Yussa would understand where he is coming from, even if he wouldn't agree.
His arm tightens about the archmage's shoulders and Caleb bends his head toward him, touching his brow to Yussa's.
"I am grateful," he says first, with aching sincerity. "It is difficult to believe these things of myself. But it is equally difficult for me to say that you are wrong." His lips curl in a small, tight smile. "Barring an academic disagreement, of course." He has to brace himself against the anxiety connected to the very thing he is explaining. "I care for you a great deal. And I am afraid of doing something which could be seen as overstepping, including asking for more than is offered. I would not wish to lose you because I wanted too much."
Yussa waits as Caleb collect himself, as the young man searches for the words that he wants and needs. He offers a gentle caress as Caleb's brow touches his. He does not - and has never - doubted Caleb's sincerity. Not the sincerity of his quiet terror when they first met, nor the heartfelt confession now.
He understands more than he is willing to admit here and now. He waits for Caleb to finish before he presses a gentle kiss to his lover's mouth.
"We will always want too much," he murmurs. "We are wizards, we would not be capable of greatness if we did not want more than what we are offered."
Perhaps that is not the same energy one should or could apply to a personal relationship, but it remains true. He shifts closer.
"I am telling you now, and I hope you will remember: I am fond of you, and I do not abruptly change my mind. I am too old for rash decisions in this matter." In others, clearly, he is still very capable of rushing ahead while still thinking it through. "If you ask for something I cannot or will not give, I will neither drop you nor disappear. Not unless you badly violate the trust I have placed in you. And I do not think you are the kind of man who will do that."
Yussa's reassurance and understanding and tender, caring kindness truly means the world. Caleb begins to relax again after he's kissed. It's like Yussa knows exactly what to say to get through to him, which is perhaps not surprising. They are wizards, and ultimately only those who have dedicated their lives to the study of the arcane, who have proven their curiosity and drive to be exceptional, will really be able to relate.
I am fond of you. Yussa has told him this once before, and Caleb could never forget it. But to know that fondness extends even this far makes him feel less alone. It makes him feel wanted in a way he hadn't dared to hope for. And finally, his perspective begins to shift. He may not be a wealthy archmage with a beautiful magical tower and centuries of experience, but he is Yussa's equal in this, and Yussa cares about what he wants. Not only that, but he enjoys doing things that will make him happy. Maybe that wouldn't be such a big realization for anyone else, but it is for Caleb.
He draws the the elf in fully in a tight embrace, tucking his face against his neck and taking comfort in holding that smaller body against him.
"I would never betray your trust." He can say that for himself with certainty, words muffled against Yussa's skin. "I treasure it far too much." He wonders if he could say what is in his heart aloud, express it fully for once. Not because he would ever expect Yussa to reciprocate or even respond, but just because sharing it at all would be meaningful for him. But as he has so often in his life, Caleb keeps it to himself. "Danke. I will remember, Yussa."
"Then I have little to worry about," he murmurs as he strokes his fingers through Caleb's hair, cradling the other man against him. There is a subtle sense that there is more Caleb could or might wish to say, but, for now, Yussa does not try to draw it out of him. This has surely been earth-moving enough for the younger man, and Yussa is content to allow Caleb to get his bearings again. It is a place to start, the reassurance that the foundation is, in fact, well-laid and strong.
"Thank you," he adds, echoing Caleb's whispered gratitude. There are many things he is and ought be grateful for in this relationship, and if nothing else he will try to make a more apparent effort in keeping that clear. He hopes Caleb will remember this in other endeavors as well, but perhaps this need be one step at a time. That's all right. Not all learning happens quickly, not all changes immediately take.
Yussa draws his hand from the light tangle of Caleb's hair in favor of drawing the blanket up to his shoulders. While he has no doubt the house will not freeze overnight, he is still very content to trap as much body heat as possible.
They sleep that way, holding each other with the blankets pulled up, and it is more than enough to keep them warm all night. Caleb rests better than he has in a long time, warmed also by the knowledge of Yussa's fondness. It is a wonderful, peaceful feeling that carries into the morning as well, where there is no rush to be up and about, and Caleb can't help wanting to show his own affection. There is sex involved, of course, but this time they barely move at all. It unfolds slowly and intimately, and Caleb showers his lover with kisses across his face and neck and shoulders as he moves almost lazily inside him, their limbs intertwined and their bodies pressed close.
If he were a man with any regard for the gods, he'd pray for more mornings like this one.
After, they put on robes and wool socks and slippers to ward off the chill and go downstairs for breakfast, which Caleb prepares with more confidence than dinner last night. The cats are happy to see them, and Ida even eats a bit of cheese from Yussa's fingers when he offers it, which is an accomplishment with a cat as wary of new faces as she is.
When it comes to readying themselves for the day, washing comes first, but they return to the bedroom to dress. Caleb's outfit is practically a foregone conclusion; there isn't much variation in his closet, as Yussa had seen yesterday. But Yussa is another story, and Caleb is excited to have a hand in picking out his attire, knowing that anything he has on hand is going to be beautiful. But the Zemnian-style garments from yesterday were so uniquely charming on him.
"What do you have for me to choose from?" he asks eagerly, still in his house robe and standing by the bed as Yussa opens the arcane chest he'd produced.
Yussa goes in and out of trances through the night, resting quietly throughout. Come morning, he feels terribly indulgent in the way they have each other: entangled, lazy, made even moreso by the fact that they know each other so well. Caleb knows just how to move, how to please him, and it is very easy to find their pleasure together before ever getting out of bed.
Breakfast is a quiet affair: Yussa has never been one for chatty, busy mornings and he is content to keep Caleb company as the younger man makes them breakfast. He has his tea and he makes friends with Ida, and he enjoys what Caleb cooks for them. Bathing is a foregone conclusion, and Yussa feels more awake and more alert once he's done that. Wrapped again in his dressing gown, the archmage flicks his fingers up to open the chest he summoned the night before.
"Anything you like in here," he says. There are dark fabrics and flashes of gold - of course - all in Zemnian fashion and all appropriate for a man of his standing. Less ostentatious than he might be if he were trying to draw attention to himself, but the quality is unmistakable. There are skirts of varying lengths, blouses and corseted vests; there are hose embroidered with patterns that match those on the vests and skirts.
Among the outer layers are various pairs of smalls and a few binders, though with the way the vests he has are designed, the latter may be unnecessary.
Just as he predicted, everything Caleb can see inside that chest is lovely. Caleb kneels down in front of it and begins to sift through it with care, lifting individual garments out to look them over. Like the outfit Yussa had worn yesterday, the fabric is all of exceptional quality and the embroidery is beautiful.
"I did not expect that you would have such an array of Zemnian fashion at the ready," he admits, glancing up at the other man with a warm quirk of his lips. After yesterday, he'd considered that he might own another outfit or two--not all of this. "Did you spend time in the Empire before settling in Nicodranas?"
The first item he decides on is a skirt, black with gold, gorgeous and utterly fitting for Yussa. Holding it at the waist, he twists it side to side to watch the way it moves. The familiar gather and swish, the way the hem flares out. It's familiar and nostalgic and novel all at once. No one Caleb knew in his youth ever owned anything so fine, let alone for daily wear, but the style is traditional.
Yussa sits on the edge of the bed, content to watch as Caleb carefully looks through his things. It's a terribly intimate act, he realizes, to allow someone such access to his wardrobe. Or simply to watch someone else touching his clothes like this with the intent of dressing him. Someone he's intimate with.
His expression is soft when Caleb glances up at him and a smile appears as the other man chooses a skirt, testing to see its movement.
"Some," he answers vaguely. "The concentration of talent here has long been cultivated."
The Solstryce Academy is renowned for a reason, after all, and there are the Halls of Erudition in Zadash. Suffice to say, Yussa had - and has - plenty of reasons to visit the Empire. And just as many not to.
"I hope my things aren't too out-of-date."
As if he didn't have anything made new or things updated for this trip specifically.
While Caleb is always curious about Yussa's history, and ventures to ask questions like this one from time to time when the opportunity arises, he never presses for more of an answer than he gives. Even if the answer he gives is vague the way this one is. Still, there is plenty that he can infer. One of Yussa's former pupils is a current member of the Assembly and Headmaster at the Halls of Erudition. That says enough.
With his mind made up, Caleb passes the black and gold skirt up to Yussa, where he can lay it out on the bed while Caleb makes the rest of his picks.
"Not at all. Styles do not change very quickly here. Culturally, the Empire has always favored tradition over the influence of new ideas." From the way his smile flickers into a grimace as he turns back to the chest, it's clear he isn't referring only to fashion trends. Loving a country with so many fatal flaws is to have these moments of bitter reflection frequently. But of course, it is not the country itself Caleb loves--it never has been. It is the people.
But his good mood isn't dampened. Looking through even a small curated sample of Yussa's wardrobe is enchanting, even more so because they are items he knows. At the same time, Caleb is aware of the trust placed in him to allow this at all. Getting dressed is not so simple for everyone as it is for him. The opportunity to choose what Yussa wears even for a day is a privilege that he would guess has been granted to very few.
The intimacy of this privilege is at its most plain when his fingers brush over a selection of smallclothes and several binders. Of the latter, Caleb is certain that he has helped Yussa to remove all of them at one point or another. Of the former, there are mostly items he doesn't recognize specifically, even with his memory. The elegance and quality Yussa prefers in everything he wears is evident in his undergarments as well. There is a delicacy to some of them that Caleb finds beautiful even objectively, let alone imagining how they would look on Yussa's body. There is smooth silk and intricate lace and meticulous beading, and even the comparatively plainer pieces have alluring cuts or feel decadently soft to his rough fingers.
"Am I being given free reign to choose from these as well?" he asks with a rakish little smile and another glance up, knowing that Yussa can clearly see what he is currently sifting lightly through, even if he lifts nothing out of the trunk.
Yussa lays the skirt on the bed next to him. He does not miss the somewhat pained bitterness as Caleb reflects on the nature of the Empire and he offers a sympathetic look. Rather than keeping the conversation on that track, however, he lets Caleb's mind return to more present and pressing matters.
He doesn't bother to hide a smile when he realizes exactly what Caleb is looking through now.
"Oh, yes. From head to toe, Master Widogast. Whatever you choose, I will wear. I did not bring anything that would give me pause."
In fact, he'd chosen many pieces specifically with Caleb in mind. Why not give the younger man a bit of a thrill? Yussa is curious to see what he will choose, besides. Especially given the selection of smallclothes and stays.
Caleb is feeling rather thrilled. Yussa confirms that he is allowed to pick anything he likes, and he feels his face heating just a touch--not out of embarrassment, but excitement. It almost feels like too much power. He nods to show his understanding, and rubs his thumb back over the set of stays in his hands. After tucking them carefully back into place, he continues to give each option more serious consideration now that he knows for certain he has Yussa's full blessing.
He's drawn naturally to the matching sets--a pair of bloomers and a soft camisole, both pale and delicate and edged in lace, a pale green sheer top and smalls in a beautiful high cut embroidered with green leaves, stays with pretty ribbons, a strapless corsetted breastband the color of Yussa's skin with subtle embroidery and matching smalls that would leave most of his torso tantalizingly bare.
Picking what Yussa will wear beneath his clothing is proving even more difficult than selecting the outfit itself.
"If I see you in any of this, Master Errenis, I worry about leaving the house in a timely manner," he says, flirting, but also entirely serious. Yussa has brought some truly beautiful things with him, and Caleb is flattered beyond words to get to tell him which to put on.
"The need for punctuality is yours," he says lightly. He likes it when Caleb flirts with him. "My day is far more open."
He has every intention of spending as much of it as he can with Caleb, as much as he is invited to, but he does not have work to do or classes to teach. And perhaps that is why it is very tempting to him to make this difficult for his lover.
Yussa eases closer and leans over to look into the trunk from where he sits.
"Given the cut and layers of Zemnian styles, I would be comfortable forgoing stays should you wish to see me without them," he says mildly. He knows that Caleb likes his breasts, and he doesn't know if that helps the younger man toward any decisions. Yussa is also aware that Caleb likes the look of his stays.
"Would it help to see them on before you decide?" Perhaps that won't help at all, but he offers none the less. "Or shall I let you give me a few options and choose from among those?"
As if it is utterly benevolent on his part to help Caleb out of any decision paralysis while he is spoiled for choice.
There is nothing about Yussa in or out of any of these garments that Caleb wouldn't like, and therein lies the problem. Yussa looks gorgeous in stays, and he would look gorgeous without them. But admittedly, Caleb does really like his breasts, and if Yussa says that he is comfortable without the stays for today, he can't pass up the opportunity to see him in something new.
But what?
Yussa clearly knows that his suggestions aren't actually likely to lead to Caleb making a decision. But gods, Caleb loves that subtle provocation. He sits back on his heels and thinks why not. If he's being offered the opportunity to see the other man in all of the available options, he'd be a fool not to take it.
"If you are not in a rush, then I have no reason to be either," he concludes, far more casually than he feels. "My plans for today were to take you around the city. What we do is entirely dependent upon you, my friend." Kneeling where he is, it takes only a brush of fingers to move Yussa's robe aside enough to press a kiss to the inside of his knee. "Since we have time, I think it would help if I could see you in a few of them."
"In that case, all thr more reason to be sure of my outfit."
He does want to let Caleb guide him around Rexxentrum, but there is no harm in a leisurely morning. Warmth pools low as Caleb brushed aside his robe to kiss his knee, reminding Yussa how little he is currently wearing.
Affecting a prim look, Yussa slides off the bed and deftly unties the belt of his robe. A shrug sends the silk sliding down his arms and a practiced flick of his wrist has it landing on the bed. For all his complaining about the cold, he does not seem at all bothered to be bare now, though the slip of silk and sudden exposure to the air causes goosebumps. Even as they fade, dark nipples stay firm.
Yussa considers some of the things Caleb's attention lingered on and he chooses the northern-style camisole and bloomers first. The white fabric is lovely against his skin. The elf tugs here and there to make sure everything sits as it should before giving Caleb a coy and curious look.
"What do you think? Or should I wait for you to give opinions after seeing them all?"
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Yussa takes a deeper breath as Caleb's hand slides lower, clever fingers teasing further between his thighs. He will, most assuredly, find that Yussa is clearly aroused: wet and hot not only from Caleb's earlier efforts, but from his own indulgence in sucking cock for the first time in ages. It doesn't hurt that giving Caleb head had been a particularly satisfying experience.
A smirk plays at the corners of his mouth and the archmage shifts, ensuring that his thighs are comfortably spread with his knees fully settled on either side of Caleb's hips. An implicit invitation.
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His movements are unhurried still, but there is also no time wasted as Caleb wets his fingers and rubs the first two deftly against elf's clit in a firm rocking motion. His slick fingers slip and slide over the hot, swollen bud as he strokes it up and down, familiar with what Yussa likes. His lips press to the older wizard's temple in a brief kiss and linger there as he touches him. He can just barely hear the soft sound of wet skin on skin over his own breathing.
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He gives in to the urge to move his hips, chasing and encouraging the steady, unhurried stroking and apparently unconcerned about leaving a wet mess on Caleb's stomach. There is part of him that briefly debates climbing his lover's body to straddle head, but there is something alluring about being stroked off like this.
Yussa moves between the rub of Caleb's fingers and simply grinding against the young man's torso.
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He may not be hard, but he certainly is turned on. With Yussa getting off against him, his clit hot and stiff under his fingers, how could he avoid it?
Still holding onto the other man's hand, he gives it another gentle squeeze. It does hinder them both a bit--there are things Caleb could use another hand for--but he's loath to give it up. The way their fingers are laced lends a tenderness and intimacy to everything else.
At the very least, when Yussa's hips shift against him, he can spare a moment to cast. A familiar arcane word passes through his lips in a low murmur, and his hand lifts from between Yussa's legs for long enough to flick his fingers in a simple somatic. What good is being a wizard if you can't use magic to problem solve in the bedroom?
When Caleb's flesh and blood fingers return to his lover's clit, his arcane ones tease up through his folds, just barely pressing into his entrance with two. The utility of Mage Hand is, as ever, wide-ranging.
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Someday, he will tell Caleb that, thus far, he's been the most willing to use magic in bed out of any lover Yussa's had. And Yussa thoroughly enjoys his bold approach to problem solving.
His fingers tighten where they are laced with Caleb's and his lips brush the younger man's ear.
"Clever," he murmurs. "Don't stop."
With ethereal fingers pushing into him, Yussa pursues his pleasure between the stroke of Caleb's fingers and those of his Mage Hand.
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Obligingly, the cool spectral fingers of his mage hand press deeper into Yussa's body, curling and then withdrawing and pressing in again to set a slow but firm pace. Caleb directs it with a thought, and continues to put his own fingers to use elsewhere. He has no intention of stopping.
His head turns to seek out Yussa's lips for a more direct kiss, but he moves according to the other man's rhythm. He's gotten very good at that. It helps that he loves every bit of it, stroking and caressing where he's most sensitive, feeling the way it effects him, chasing Yussa's pleasure along with him.
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Another soft moan escapes him as he breaks from the kiss, head bowed as his entire body shivers. His cunt gets tight around the Mage Hand's fingers and breathes a heavier sigh as Caleb strokes him through it.
"Good," he breathes. "Oh, good."
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While he continues rubbing over him gently to work him through it, Caleb's fingers leave Yussa's clit as soon as it seems like that last peak has passed. Mage Hand's duration ends soon after, leaving the man empty. But Caleb doesn't give him long to focus on that.
"Good," he echoes, pleased, and kisses him again, full and soft. His hand winds up against the dip of the smaller man's spine just above his ass, which is good enough to hold him close.
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When they part, he rests his head on Caleb's shoulder. It's very easy to relax against the young man like this. Sharing a bed again has grown on Yussa, and it's intermittent enough that it always feels a bit novel.
Eventually, Yussa shifts and slides off to one side. He stays tucked against Caleb, one leg draped over the other man's thigh. His head stays on the comfortable spot on Caleb's shoulder.
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After the first time saw Yussa's bedroom in Tidepeak and slept beside him there, something changed. There were a lot more overnights after that, most of them spent in that bed. Yussa wasn't much of a cuddler to start, but the record shows that he does like to have Caleb close, and he's gradually sought out more of it over time. Yussa permitted him into this very private part of his life that day, and the trust and intimacy and personal involvement in their relationship has evolved even further since. But Caleb hopes that Yussa can still experience here some of what he'd felt at being welcomed into his lover's personal space for the first time.
Tonight, Caleb's heart is full. He feels so lucky to be wanted enough by this man that he crossed the continent just to see him.
"Thank you," he murmurs against the short, pale waves of his hair. "For visiting. That is another thing I would never have asked for, assuming you would be uninterested. In both cases, I am glad to be wrong."
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Yussa doesn't question why Caleb has never invited him to Rexxentrum; he has long since learned that the younger man is very hesitant to ask anything for himself. At first he'd been mildly concerned about imposing, but seeing Caleb's pleasure in his arrival and his presence quickly made that fade.
He brushes his fingers affectionately over Caleb's chest.
"I know," he admits. "I could not wholly discern your hesitation in extending an invitation. But it soon became clear to me that you would not, even if you wanted to. Ask for the things you want, Caleb Widogast. You may never get them otherwise."
The archmage pushes himself up just enough to meet Caleb's gaze.
"And you are worthy of time and attention. Including mine."
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That he is worthy. That he can ask for things. What a novel concept.
"I--" He struggles, at first, to find the words he needs. How to communicate that he rarely feels worthy of anything, let alone what his life has become? That asking for more than what he has seems like too much? That sometimes the guilt prevents him from from pursuing the things he really wants? He thinks Yussa would understand where he is coming from, even if he wouldn't agree.
His arm tightens about the archmage's shoulders and Caleb bends his head toward him, touching his brow to Yussa's.
"I am grateful," he says first, with aching sincerity. "It is difficult to believe these things of myself. But it is equally difficult for me to say that you are wrong." His lips curl in a small, tight smile. "Barring an academic disagreement, of course." He has to brace himself against the anxiety connected to the very thing he is explaining. "I care for you a great deal. And I am afraid of doing something which could be seen as overstepping, including asking for more than is offered. I would not wish to lose you because I wanted too much."
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He understands more than he is willing to admit here and now. He waits for Caleb to finish before he presses a gentle kiss to his lover's mouth.
"We will always want too much," he murmurs. "We are wizards, we would not be capable of greatness if we did not want more than what we are offered."
Perhaps that is not the same energy one should or could apply to a personal relationship, but it remains true. He shifts closer.
"I am telling you now, and I hope you will remember: I am fond of you, and I do not abruptly change my mind. I am too old for rash decisions in this matter." In others, clearly, he is still very capable of rushing ahead while still thinking it through. "If you ask for something I cannot or will not give, I will neither drop you nor disappear. Not unless you badly violate the trust I have placed in you. And I do not think you are the kind of man who will do that."
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I am fond of you. Yussa has told him this once before, and Caleb could never forget it. But to know that fondness extends even this far makes him feel less alone. It makes him feel wanted in a way he hadn't dared to hope for. And finally, his perspective begins to shift. He may not be a wealthy archmage with a beautiful magical tower and centuries of experience, but he is Yussa's equal in this, and Yussa cares about what he wants. Not only that, but he enjoys doing things that will make him happy. Maybe that wouldn't be such a big realization for anyone else, but it is for Caleb.
He draws the the elf in fully in a tight embrace, tucking his face against his neck and taking comfort in holding that smaller body against him.
"I would never betray your trust." He can say that for himself with certainty, words muffled against Yussa's skin. "I treasure it far too much." He wonders if he could say what is in his heart aloud, express it fully for once. Not because he would ever expect Yussa to reciprocate or even respond, but just because sharing it at all would be meaningful for him. But as he has so often in his life, Caleb keeps it to himself. "Danke. I will remember, Yussa."
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"Thank you," he adds, echoing Caleb's whispered gratitude. There are many things he is and ought be grateful for in this relationship, and if nothing else he will try to make a more apparent effort in keeping that clear. He hopes Caleb will remember this in other endeavors as well, but perhaps this need be one step at a time. That's all right. Not all learning happens quickly, not all changes immediately take.
Yussa draws his hand from the light tangle of Caleb's hair in favor of drawing the blanket up to his shoulders. While he has no doubt the house will not freeze overnight, he is still very content to trap as much body heat as possible.
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If he were a man with any regard for the gods, he'd pray for more mornings like this one.
After, they put on robes and wool socks and slippers to ward off the chill and go downstairs for breakfast, which Caleb prepares with more confidence than dinner last night. The cats are happy to see them, and Ida even eats a bit of cheese from Yussa's fingers when he offers it, which is an accomplishment with a cat as wary of new faces as she is.
When it comes to readying themselves for the day, washing comes first, but they return to the bedroom to dress. Caleb's outfit is practically a foregone conclusion; there isn't much variation in his closet, as Yussa had seen yesterday. But Yussa is another story, and Caleb is excited to have a hand in picking out his attire, knowing that anything he has on hand is going to be beautiful. But the Zemnian-style garments from yesterday were so uniquely charming on him.
"What do you have for me to choose from?" he asks eagerly, still in his house robe and standing by the bed as Yussa opens the arcane chest he'd produced.
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Breakfast is a quiet affair: Yussa has never been one for chatty, busy mornings and he is content to keep Caleb company as the younger man makes them breakfast. He has his tea and he makes friends with Ida, and he enjoys what Caleb cooks for them. Bathing is a foregone conclusion, and Yussa feels more awake and more alert once he's done that. Wrapped again in his dressing gown, the archmage flicks his fingers up to open the chest he summoned the night before.
"Anything you like in here," he says. There are dark fabrics and flashes of gold - of course - all in Zemnian fashion and all appropriate for a man of his standing. Less ostentatious than he might be if he were trying to draw attention to himself, but the quality is unmistakable. There are skirts of varying lengths, blouses and corseted vests; there are hose embroidered with patterns that match those on the vests and skirts.
Among the outer layers are various pairs of smalls and a few binders, though with the way the vests he has are designed, the latter may be unnecessary.
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"I did not expect that you would have such an array of Zemnian fashion at the ready," he admits, glancing up at the other man with a warm quirk of his lips. After yesterday, he'd considered that he might own another outfit or two--not all of this. "Did you spend time in the Empire before settling in Nicodranas?"
The first item he decides on is a skirt, black with gold, gorgeous and utterly fitting for Yussa. Holding it at the waist, he twists it side to side to watch the way it moves. The familiar gather and swish, the way the hem flares out. It's familiar and nostalgic and novel all at once. No one Caleb knew in his youth ever owned anything so fine, let alone for daily wear, but the style is traditional.
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His expression is soft when Caleb glances up at him and a smile appears as the other man chooses a skirt, testing to see its movement.
"Some," he answers vaguely. "The concentration of talent here has long been cultivated."
The Solstryce Academy is renowned for a reason, after all, and there are the Halls of Erudition in Zadash. Suffice to say, Yussa had - and has - plenty of reasons to visit the Empire. And just as many not to.
"I hope my things aren't too out-of-date."
As if he didn't have anything made new or things updated for this trip specifically.
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With his mind made up, Caleb passes the black and gold skirt up to Yussa, where he can lay it out on the bed while Caleb makes the rest of his picks.
"Not at all. Styles do not change very quickly here. Culturally, the Empire has always favored tradition over the influence of new ideas." From the way his smile flickers into a grimace as he turns back to the chest, it's clear he isn't referring only to fashion trends. Loving a country with so many fatal flaws is to have these moments of bitter reflection frequently. But of course, it is not the country itself Caleb loves--it never has been. It is the people.
But his good mood isn't dampened. Looking through even a small curated sample of Yussa's wardrobe is enchanting, even more so because they are items he knows. At the same time, Caleb is aware of the trust placed in him to allow this at all. Getting dressed is not so simple for everyone as it is for him. The opportunity to choose what Yussa wears even for a day is a privilege that he would guess has been granted to very few.
The intimacy of this privilege is at its most plain when his fingers brush over a selection of smallclothes and several binders. Of the latter, Caleb is certain that he has helped Yussa to remove all of them at one point or another. Of the former, there are mostly items he doesn't recognize specifically, even with his memory. The elegance and quality Yussa prefers in everything he wears is evident in his undergarments as well. There is a delicacy to some of them that Caleb finds beautiful even objectively, let alone imagining how they would look on Yussa's body. There is smooth silk and intricate lace and meticulous beading, and even the comparatively plainer pieces have alluring cuts or feel decadently soft to his rough fingers.
"Am I being given free reign to choose from these as well?" he asks with a rakish little smile and another glance up, knowing that Yussa can clearly see what he is currently sifting lightly through, even if he lifts nothing out of the trunk.
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He doesn't bother to hide a smile when he realizes exactly what Caleb is looking through now.
"Oh, yes. From head to toe, Master Widogast. Whatever you choose, I will wear. I did not bring anything that would give me pause."
In fact, he'd chosen many pieces specifically with Caleb in mind. Why not give the younger man a bit of a thrill? Yussa is curious to see what he will choose, besides. Especially given the selection of smallclothes and stays.
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He's drawn naturally to the matching sets--a pair of bloomers and a soft camisole, both pale and delicate and edged in lace, a pale green sheer top and smalls in a beautiful high cut embroidered with green leaves, stays with pretty ribbons, a strapless corsetted breastband the color of Yussa's skin with subtle embroidery and matching smalls that would leave most of his torso tantalizingly bare.
Picking what Yussa will wear beneath his clothing is proving even more difficult than selecting the outfit itself.
"If I see you in any of this, Master Errenis, I worry about leaving the house in a timely manner," he says, flirting, but also entirely serious. Yussa has brought some truly beautiful things with him, and Caleb is flattered beyond words to get to tell him which to put on.
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He has every intention of spending as much of it as he can with Caleb, as much as he is invited to, but he does not have work to do or classes to teach. And perhaps that is why it is very tempting to him to make this difficult for his lover.
Yussa eases closer and leans over to look into the trunk from where he sits.
"Given the cut and layers of Zemnian styles, I would be comfortable forgoing stays should you wish to see me without them," he says mildly. He knows that Caleb likes his breasts, and he doesn't know if that helps the younger man toward any decisions. Yussa is also aware that Caleb likes the look of his stays.
"Would it help to see them on before you decide?" Perhaps that won't help at all, but he offers none the less. "Or shall I let you give me a few options and choose from among those?"
As if it is utterly benevolent on his part to help Caleb out of any decision paralysis while he is spoiled for choice.
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But what?
Yussa clearly knows that his suggestions aren't actually likely to lead to Caleb making a decision. But gods, Caleb loves that subtle provocation. He sits back on his heels and thinks why not. If he's being offered the opportunity to see the other man in all of the available options, he'd be a fool not to take it.
"If you are not in a rush, then I have no reason to be either," he concludes, far more casually than he feels. "My plans for today were to take you around the city. What we do is entirely dependent upon you, my friend." Kneeling where he is, it takes only a brush of fingers to move Yussa's robe aside enough to press a kiss to the inside of his knee. "Since we have time, I think it would help if I could see you in a few of them."
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He does want to let Caleb guide him around Rexxentrum, but there is no harm in a leisurely morning. Warmth pools low as Caleb brushed aside his robe to kiss his knee, reminding Yussa how little he is currently wearing.
Affecting a prim look, Yussa slides off the bed and deftly unties the belt of his robe. A shrug sends the silk sliding down his arms and a practiced flick of his wrist has it landing on the bed. For all his complaining about the cold, he does not seem at all bothered to be bare now, though the slip of silk and sudden exposure to the air causes goosebumps. Even as they fade, dark nipples stay firm.
Yussa considers some of the things Caleb's attention lingered on and he chooses the northern-style camisole and bloomers first. The white fabric is lovely against his skin. The elf tugs here and there to make sure everything sits as it should before giving Caleb a coy and curious look.
"What do you think? Or should I wait for you to give opinions after seeing them all?"
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